Published last month, "The Boss is Dead" is a kind-of "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance" for the "want-fries-with-that?" generation, but without the 2,000 years of Western philosophy with which to contend. The burger joint is a machine like any other and, to function properly - to feed the people and corporate beancounters - has to be properly maintained. And, with all apologies to Pirsig, the larger point is that the burger you're working on is a burger called yourself. Not that our hero actually understands this. He's so caught up in Orwellian double-think and, perhaps, unacknowledged Oedipal frustrations, it's all he can do to keep up with the evening rush. He wants the Boss dead because he wants to replace him, and he will do whatever it takes - even becoming him -- to make that happen. It is the story of burgers, of society and of us. It's a battle for life and for sanity. The characters will ring true to anyone who has worked in the fast food industry. And who hasn't? It is, for many of us, a rite of passage. Most of us walk away from it. Who needs that kind of ... well, special sauce? Some, however, try to get ahead and, in the process, sell their souls - without even knowing it. Oh, good evening, Mr. Mann. Would you like fries with that? Perhaps a clue as well? To be fair, Chris knows what's going on. He knows he's at a dead end. He acknowledges it whenever he runs into or speaks with Davidson, who got bounced from Interburger and holds a similar job at the burger joint up the road. Davidson "is me reflected in a cheap mirror a few years from how," he says. "Unless something changes, I will be him, doing what he does and dying." Will he get ahead at Interburger? No. He's already been branded. But you can dream, can't you? -- J.C. Lockwood, Merrimac Valley Current